


you see the world in black and white (no color or light)

by completist



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by a poem, M/M, Unrequited Love, post-bf and post-gol timelines, unrequited singeiji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/completist/pseuds/completist
Summary: ten reasons not to kiss him, and three reasons to.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji, Okumura Eiji/Sing Soo-Ling
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104





	you see the world in black and white (no color or light)

**Author's Note:**

> for the TRASHURES gang, because I didn't get to join the watchplay :(

**reasons not to kiss him:**

  
  


  1. **_You weren’t raised to love tender._**



Eiji is devastatingly beautiful.

The way the sun hits his face, his hair, the glint in his eyes in that tiny moment before he hides behind the camera. The way his hand cradles everything he touches, holds them safely in the safety of his palms, in the strong grip of his fingers.

Eiji is devastatingly beautiful.

The way he says Ash’s name, the lone syllable rolling perfectly in his tongue. The way his arms envelopes him—protective, loving, caring. No one ever truly cared the way Eiji did, the way Eiji is, the way—

Eiji is devastatingly beautiful, with his trembling hands holding a gun, the determined set of his jaw and the doubt in his eyes. 

The way his brows furrowed in his sleep, his hand lying open on his side — waiting. Ash wonders what will happen if he stays, if he lets Eiji remain by his side.

If he lets himself remain at Eiji’s side.

He shouldn’t.

Ash hears the sound of Eiji’s steps before he rounds the corner, the huge condominium unit suddenly feels insignificant, the only room that matters is the one Eiji enters into.

“Ash,” Eiji greets, a small smile gracing his lips and Ash is suddenly thankful he’s not standing — that fucking smile, that fucking soft smile Eiji only shows him. Call him conceited but Eiji shows it to him only. “Why are you still up so late into the night?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Ash retorts, feigning attention to the gun in his hands, “Onii-chan.”

  
  
  


  1. **_When he’s around all you do is tremble. when he’s around you want to get on your knees. look how much power he has over you. It’s dangerous._**



Sing thinks that maybe, in another lifetime, he would be enough.

But the stars don't always align, the wind doesn't always sway to his direction, the world doesn't revolve to accommodate him, and some things aren’t always meant to touch—like the moon and the ocean, the stars and the earth; one can only stare from afar.

But Sing has hope that someday he would be enough.

Eiji’s gentleness has that sharp edge into it.

The way he holds the spoon and fork during dinner, how he sorts through the clothes in the hamper. The way his fingers tap into the keys of his laptop when he edits his photos.

The way he cradles Sing’s face to him with his eyes closed, hugging him close as if to keep the pain at bay.

The way he gives him the jacket he almost forgot about and a stack of readings for that one class he purposefully forgot.

But the universe will keep on expanding and Eiji will remain like this: lost in the past, despite trying his might to live in the present.

“Do you think it will stop hurting?” Eiji asks one day, when he lowers his camera away from the stunning view of the New York setting sun before them.

 _Ah_ , Sing thinks, it's one of those rare moments.

“It might, but it will take a long time.” 

“That's awfully optimistic of you, Sing.”

“You doubt it?”

Eiji smiles, raising his camera again. “Not at all.”

A snap, and the view is forever frozen in Eiji’s hands. Sing entertains the fleeting thought wishing Eiji would allow himself to hold him in the safety of his hands, the comfort of his arms, and the love of his heart.

  
  
  


  1. **_He’s too good at forgiving and you’re too good at violence._**



When Eiji first asked for his gun, for once in such a long time, his racing thoughts skidded to a stop.

He was so… no, not innocent, he was never exactly that; Ash couldn’t place it, nobody ever asks for a gun that way, not with that eyes and especially not with that face.

Not with curiosity that seems capable of cleansing the gun of all its misdeeds. Not with such curiosity that’s almost enough to wipe the red in a ledger. 

“Ash?” Eiji calls out, and Ash shouldn’t turn around in his bed to meet those eyes, should pretend to be asleep and not indulge himself with an idea that could never be.

“Eiji.” He replies, turning around so he could meet Eiji’s waiting gaze. He feels like drowning.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Hm,” Ash hums, feigning interest because right now, all he knows and all he wants is to hear him talk and talk. “What do you want to cook?”

Eiji smiles. “Anything you want to eat.”

“Avocado shrimp salad?”

“Okay,” Eiji nods, burying his smile into his pillow and Ash quenches the urge to caress those cheeks and stare into those eyes and memorize the way the moonlight makes them shine brighter.

“Goodnight, Ash.”

“Goodnight, Eiji.” 

Breakfast that morning feels like a momentary peace in a lifetime of war.

  
  


  1. **You know what they say about monsters, you know what happens to the boys who love them. Are you going to do that to him?**



Sing barely stops his hands from ripping the letter apart as Eiji cries himself to sleep again in the other room.

It’s one of those bad days. The one with the dark clouds obstructing the sun, the one where the blazing summer night feels like a bleak winter afternoon. Even when they occur farther in between now, the toll it gives is still that much heavy.

He puts the letter back where he usually hides it and stands up. His feet led him to Eiji’s door.

“Eiji?”

There was no reply because the tears wouldn't even stop.

Breakfast the next morning felt like a masking tape put on a leaking water pipe.

  
  


  1. **_Your hands don’t know how to be gentle. Think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms, the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. You wolf-boy, you war machine. You wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it._**



“I'll stay by your side. For as long you want me to.”

Ash wants to run. To him; from him. He doesn't know. This is one of the few good things that happened to him and he knows he can't lose it, can't break it. 

But he doesn’t know how to handle it.

_Griff. Skipper. Shorter_

He shouldn't, but how can he not when the ghosts of Eiji's touch are more calming than coffee in the morning; than the weight of a gun in his hand; than the reaction force everytime he fires a bullet. When the sight of Eiji's smile feels more like home than any other place he stays at. When the look in Eiji's smile brings peace more than a gun ever could.

“Stay by my side. It doesn't have to be forever.” _Not when your hug could last me more than a lifetime._

In the end, Ash wonders if he could stay by his side.

  
  


He stays up all night wondering how this will all end.

  1. **_If you hurt him it might kill you_**



Sing comes home to warmth. That's all he knows.

There are still days, when everything is as hushed and cold as a lonely winter night but there are farther in between, much farther than when they used to be. Now, there’s warmth and joy and contentment. The elation evident in Eiji’s eyes and Sing thinks that this, this is how it should always be.

The reminder that he should not get used to this momentarily gets buried at the back of his mind as Buddy hops unto the couch beside him, laying his head on his hand. Sing’s hand automatically moves to pet him, the other scrolling through his readings.

“Hey,” Eiji greets, walking into the living room holding two cups of coffee. And the way he smiles, the way the sunlight hits his glasses and lights up his smile— “Here, so you can survive that.”

—Sing takes a deep breath and smiles. “Now I can. Thank you.”

Today is a good day.

That night, Eiji asks him if he thinks he should cut his hair short; Sing smiles, walks up behind to tangle his finger through the long strands, “You’re beautiful as it is.”

Sing hopes that someday, he would be enough to keep that smile on his face.

  
  
  


  1. **_If (they) hurt him you might kill yourself._**



The shot was only meant to graze, a warning to some extent, a blatant show of power.

A reminder that Ash doesn't stand a chance. Not against him.

_Pier 8, Warehouse 12. 9:00 PM._

He's well, no fever, the bullet merely nicked his arm but it might scar — albeit slightly — but Eiji is looking at him with worried eyes again. No, Eiji has always known there's danger to be worried of; although these past few days felt like there wasn't any. A couple of days like the last summer in Cape Cod, a couple of days of reprieve, a couple of days to breathe. The couple of days of calm before the storm.

Ash wonders what Blanca will do.

_Pier 8, Warehouse 12. 9:00 PM._

"Ash, won't you come to Japan?" Eiji suddenly asks, "When it's all over, won’t you come to Japan with me?"

He sounds so sure of the end, Ash wishes he could be too. "Me, to Japan? What gave you that idea?"

Eiji gives him a bashful smile, scratching the back of his head before turning his hopeful look back to Ash. "I want you to see my country. Besides, you won't need a gun to live there."

That would be good, wouldn't it? A life without a gun. Good, but unimaginable. Ash stares at the can in his hand, it's light material suddenly feels heavy as if mocking him, urging him to look down at the pile of dead bodies beneath him. "Then I will not have anything to do in Japan."

_Never shall I forgive whomever should hurt you. No matter who it is._

He kneels beside Eiji's bed, thinking of a country with eight million gods and prays that should all of this end, it would be in Japan.

"Japan, huh. I'd like to go someday."

"I'd love to take you."

  1. **_You are very bad at rehabilitation. This is one addiction you’d fail to give up. He's going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name._**



“I can’t say I’m surprised you’re still staying with him.” Yut-lung says and somehow, the way the phone carries over his voice softens the blow of his words, “You got addicted to the pain, Sing. For someone who urged and continuously urges me to keep getting better, you're the one to talk ”

Sing looks back to the closed front door, hiding Eiji from the world as he immerses himself in his photos, in memories both old and new. He wonders if he should tell Yut-lung about the kiss last night, about what happened last night, and the name Eiji called out. How this morning felt right and brighter than the sun yet heavy as a thousand brick house with Eiji in his arms—his long hair tickling his face, the way he squints his eyes as he pats the bedside table for his glasses, the way he apologized.

The way his soft lips later whispered, “Good morning, Sing” and how it felt to reply with “Good morning, Eiji.”

He wonders if he should say it out loud, how it felt to watch Eiji as the early morning light hits his face, illuminating the calmness of his features as he sleeps, far more reverent than the stained glass windows of some old church — and fuck, its still him, alright. It’s still Eiji from all those years ago who is far stronger than all of them combined. Eiji, that Japanese boy who—

“Sing?” Yut-lung’s voice sounds quiet, careful. Like he knows even if Sing doesn’t say it out loud, like he knows and maybe understands too but he’d rather not do the latter because it would hurt too much. A dream that was never viable when it comes to him.

“Go back to him. Both of us know this is the one thing you can’t let go of.”

He can’t, Sing knows that, but he also knows that it’s Eiji who might let go of him. And all he can do is pray that he would be ready by then.

“Take care out there, Yue.”

  
  


  1. **_You still aren’t sure he isn’t a dream._**



"You need to give it up. A rabbit and a lynx can't ever be friends."

Ash lies there on the cold ground, gathering warmth from mere thoughts of the one person who truly made a difference in him.

It wasn’t the gun that he held years ago, nor the unwanted touches on his skin, the force digging into his flesh, not even the weight of a knife held in his once untrained hands nor the talent cultivated in him to shoot without missing that made a difference.

It was an innocent question amid a sinful room, asked to a sinful man.

_“Is that a real gun?”_

It was the slow, fun mornings—mornings have never been fun before. Morning means a new day to always be on guard, another day to endure, to suffer. Yet mornings started feeling different, knowing he fell asleep across him who made him feel safe.

Slowly, Ash rises from his prone form, staring at the closed gate where Blanca went. And instead of remembering the weight of the gun he held in his hand earlier, he remembers the feeling of Eiji’s hand in his instead; Eiji’s hand running through his hair, Eiji’s hands holding the camera trained on him.

Instead of remembering the sound of gunshots, he remembers Eiji’s laughter instead, Eiji’s accented english, Eiji’s sighs and the worry behind his words.

Instead of remembering the downward whirlwind of his life, he remembers Eiji instead; he remembers Eiji who brought the light and walked with him in this dangerous path.

  1. **_If you kiss him, you might wake up._**



Sing thinks that, if given the chance, he'd stay here forever.

But he doesn’t have that, never did. All he was given was a ticket to a ride that was only a couple of years. He wasn’t given permission to replace what was lost; never once thought he could—though he definitely wished he could.

Eiji turns to them, illuminated by the streaming sunlight flowing through the window. And Sing thinks, in that fraction of a moment before he hides behind the camera, before he tells him and Akira to smile, that Eiji is devastatingly beautiful.

The way wisps of hair escapes the low ponytail he has taken into sporting the past couple of years, the way his eyes lights up when he smiles, the way he holds the little things—his camera, the film, a ball-pen, how he holds onto photographs, and memories—good and bad. How he sometimes takes on this faraway look when he thinks no one is looking, as if he’s wishing on a faraway star, willing the gods of the old to bring back what he once had, what they all once had.

That night, under the safety offered by the vast night sky in Cape Cod, Sing realizes he has been holding on to something he should not have. Dreams to kiss someone whose path crossed his but is not meant to stay. He had been holding on to the light of a dead star—long gone but was reborn to a new one; a new star that will shine, but whose light is still not his to bask in.

That night, he dreams of kissing Eiji under the moonlight. Only to wake up the moment their lips met.

**reasons to kiss him:**

  1. **_Because he’s beautiful._**



The first time Eiji had met Ash, the world did not stop turning, the time did not stop ticking, nor did the stars stopped shining.

The first time Eiji had met Ash, the word beautiful sprang in his mind. Like a flower in full bloom, like a wild beast emerging from the forest, like a thunderstorm raging on a supposed bright Sunday afternoon.

And then a lot of things happened, things he should have chosen to forget for his own sake but rather didn’t. Ash was beautiful in those memories, like the last rays of the setting sun before the world enters twilight, like the first glance at the moon on a still late afternoon, and the first flash of sunlight on an eerie Monday morning; the calm before the storm.

Eiji smiles in the darkness of his room, belatedly realizing that Ash is the storm.

  1. **_Because he asked._**



Ash with torn clothes, trembling lips and body, and with fear hiding beneath stricken eyes is a sight that makes Eiji want to crumble to his knees and curse at the world.

And the moment Ash lets him hold him close, makes Eiji want to fall onto his knees and pray. Pray to a god that never seemed to do any right to Ash except allow him to leave.

The first graze of his lips on Ash’s cold, sweating forehead is a relief, a simple act of the body saying I’m here, I’m here. I can’t promise nobody else can hurt you now, but I promise that I will always be here.

And when Ash trembles beneath his hold, Eiji decides to stand and carry the weight of Ash’s pain and struggles—even for the little while he has allowed him to.

  1. **_Because he preceded please with, “I’m not afraid of you.”_**



In his dreams, Ash always smiles. He never turns around with a glare to whoever is following his back, he never hides a gun in his jacket, or a knife beneath his pillows when he sleeps. In his dreams, Ash always wears a kind look on his face, the kind that makes him even more beautiful; ethereal with the way the sunlight strikes his hair and lights up his eyes.

Ash would pull him close against the warmth of his chest, hold him softly in the cradle of his strong arms, touch him with the slow glide of his fingers on his face. The words spoken between them were few and far in between. _Please. Let me hold you. You’re safe here, even for a little while._

In his dreams, Ash managed to properly say goodbye. In his dreams, a soft kiss is enough to say goodbye they never properly did in real life.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written as a fic for bf week angst week 2019, day 7: remember but I posted the alternate one last year. Title is from a Coldplay song :) 
> 
> hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/completist_) and [tumblr](http://queen---queer.tumblr.com/)


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